


Stray on the Doorstep

by Caiti (Caitriona_3)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29549727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitriona_3/pseuds/Caiti
Summary: Sam couldn't quite figured out how he ended up in this situation, but he figured he could blame it on the cat.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Darcy Lewis
Comments: 24
Kudos: 71
Collections: BBB Special Events, Darcy Lewis Bingo, Marvel Fluff Bingo, Sam Wilson Bingo 2020, Winterhawk Bingo Round Two





	1. Fic

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 - Fic & Chapter 2 - Mood boards
> 
> Bucky Barnes Flash Bingo - Card 7 - Square 5 - Trauma  
> Darcy Lewis Bingo - A1 - Darcy X Bucky  
> Marvel Fluff - N4 - Tattoo Artist AU  
> Sam Wilson Bingo - G3 - Humor  
> Winterhawk Bingo - G2 - Alpine the Cat

Bright blue eyes stared up at him and Sam Wilson could only stare back. He’d been on his way to his car after a quick meeting with a potential new patient, mind focused on a quiet night with a drink and his newest book. A little whiskey, a light-hearted mystery, and no stress – that had been the plan. Then he’d been waylaid by a ten-pound, two-foot-long (not counting the tail) white furred feline. Not that he had a problem with cats; actually, he preferred them to most other animals.

But this one seemed determined to stay in his way.

Anytime he tried to sidestep, the white cat would move to block him.

Finally, he crouched down and met those blue eyes straight on. “Okay, cat, I know your type is kinda stubborn, but this is getting ridiculous.” Tilting his head, Sam considered the animal. “Clean, well-fed, and in good shape – you’re not looking for a home. Where are your people, hmm?”

As if he understood the question, the cat turned and took a few steps. Stopping, he looked over his shoulder to give a small meowing sound. 

“Why do I get the feeling you’re ordering me around?”

This time, the sound came out as a growl.

Pushing himself up to his feet, Sam began to trail after the smug looking creature. “I’m following orders from a strange cat,” he muttered. “I damn well need that vacation.”

The cat led him around the corner to a small street full of shop fronts. He couldn’t see anything familiar, no big names or popular brands. Instead, everything looked like the kind of place meant for locals – comfortable, homey, and nothing that would draw the eyes of tourists. Sam didn’t recognize the place, but he’d only been in the city for a few months. Tempted as he might be to do some exploring, he kept following the cat until it stopped in front of . . . He blinked.

“A tattoo shop?” Disbelief colored his tone as he looked down at the cat. “You brought me to a tattoo parlor?”

Sitting, the cat blinked his blue eyes and tilted his head as if to ask what Sam had been expecting. 

“Certainly not this.”

And still . . . 

Something about the place felt . . . welcoming, safe even, as if the shop had an aura. Maybe that was the point?

“Weird.” Sam stared at it, trying to figure out what the cat wanted to show him. One hand lifted so he could rub his forehead. “Now I’m seeing meaning in the actions of a cat. Make that a **long** vacation.”

“Mrowr.”

Dropping his hand, he looked down at the vivid blue eyes. “Don’t look at me,” he shrugged. “I’ve evidently taken a break from reality.”

The cat gave a long, slow blink.

“Are you rolling your eyes at me?”

“Mrowr.” With that, whatever it meant, the cat headed for the shop. He paused and glanced over his shoulder. The long tail slashed once through the air.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

Apparently satisfied with that, the cat walked up to the door and strolled in as the thing opened with an automatic swish. Sam followed, still shaking his head over the whole situation. When he walked through the doors, he stopped and blinked in surprise. It looked **nothing** like he expected of a tattoo shop. Yes, it had pictures of various tattoo sketches and ideas on the walls, but the shop itself looked more like a mystical shop and café. Where did they do the tattoos? Scanning the place, he spotted the sign pointing people upstairs for tattoo appointments.

“Hi! Welcome to The Spellbound Triad.”

Warm and inviting, like the shop, the feminine voice drew his attention to the counter. Again he found himself looking into blue eyes, but these were steel blue instead of the vivid, electric of the cat’s. The woman in question also possessed dark brown hair framing a sweet face and a friendly smile. “Hey,” he smiled back.

“And how can I help you today?” she asked.

“Well, I . . . don’t really need anything,” he began, his words coming out in a reluctant, embarrassed tone. 

Her eyebrows rose. “This isn’t the shop someone just wanders into,” she noted, leaning against the counter as she watched him. “We’re not really an impulse kind of place. It takes a real want for someone to come in here.” Then she paused. “Or a need.”

“Probably true,” he admitted, “but I didn’t . . . I don’t . . .” His voice trailed off and he heaved out a sigh, spreading his hands in a near-shrug. “Would you believe I followed a cat?”

Instead of laughing or giving him a weird look, her eyes widened. “White, blue eyes, attitude?”

Surprise flooded through him. “That’s the one.”

“Alpine!”

A couple of seconds after her call, Sam’s stubborn guide jumped up onto the countertop. “That’s him!” 

“Of course, it is,” she chuckled. Petting the cat . . . or Alpine, to give him his correct name, she smiled down at the blue-eyed feline. “A new stray, hmm?”

“Excuse me?”

She turned a smile on Sam. “Alpine has a tendency to bring strays into the shop,” she shrugged. “If he led you here, then clearly you need **something**.” Her fingers continued to brush down Alpine’s furry back. “Now all we need to figure out is what type of help you need.”

“Darcy!”

The call echoed down the stairs, followed by the tread of steps. A man appeared and Sam did a quick once over to take in details. Five-foot-ten, with light brown hair, he moved with an unexpected grace gave the impression of an athlete – an acrobat or gymnast maybe. When he spotted Sam, his steps hesitated and sea green eyes did their own scan. The suspicion and caution in that gaze reminded Sam of some of his patients, so he tentatively tagged the newcomer as retired law enforcement or military.

“Didn’t realize we had a customer,” the man stated, glancing at the woman – who must be Darcy.

“Hey, Clint,” Darcy waved. “Meet Alpine’s newest stray.” She shot Sam a winsome look. “Got a name?”

“Sam,” he replied, keeping his body language easy and open. “Sam Wilson.”

“Clint Barton,” the other man nodded. Then he tilted his head towards his coworker. “And Darcy Lewis.” One corner of his mouth quirked into a crooked smile. “Alpine brought you?”

“Ah . . .” Sam’s smile slid into a wry twist. “So it seems?”

“Hmm.” Clint did another scan and then turned to look up the stairs. “Buck!”

“What?”

“Your cat brought in another one!”

No response came for a long moment, but then Sam heard a thump and steps starting down from the upper floor. The man who appeared this time stood six-feet-tall with brown hair a little darker than Clint’s. He wore a black sleeveless t-shirt that left his arms on display. The right arm bore a tattoo sleeve – red thread connecting a hawk, a dolphin, and a white wolf before tying into a Celtic heart knot. Interspaced around them, Sam could see the alchemy symbols for earth, water, and air. But his mind focused on the left arm – a full metal prosthetic arm. Sam kept his reaction to a single blink. Working with veterans, he knew that some of them could be sensitive to other people’s reactions. 

And this man had been in a war – it showed in his eyes.

Marble gray eyes held a flat, cold look as they looked over him, probably trying to catalog any tells and weaknesses. When they shifted over to Darcy, Sam had to repress the desire to sigh in relief. Glancing around, he found Clint giving him an understanding look. Heat burned Sam’s cheeks as he realized his discomfort had shown.

“Doll?” 

Bucky’s voice rumbled out the question and Darcy shrugged, her smile bright and unafraid. “Sam followed Alpine right through the door.”

The man’s mouth twisted into a small grimace as he gave the cat a look. “You’re as bad as Steve.”

“Mrowr.”

“And just as mouthy.” That gray gaze swept back over to pin Sam in place, but this time it held resignation and acceptance. “Okay, what’s your issue?”

Sam held up his hands. “Issue free,” he declared. He watched as all three of them raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “In concert even,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Look, I’m tired and I could probably use a vacation, but other than that? I don’t really have any issues.” Glancing at the cat, he paused and then decided to push forward with his question. “Okay, so what’s the thing with the cat?”

“Alpine,” Darcy corrected. “He’s . . . special.” Her lips twitched for a breath or two before she gave up and laughed. “And yeah, this is totally typical behavior for him. He’s . . . got a sense.”

“He’s never wrong either.”

Eyebrows climbing, Sam looked back at Bucky. “Not that I want to disparage your cat,” he began.

“Wouldn’t recommend it.”

“ _But_ I’m not sure why he brought me.”

“Neither are we,” Clint shrugged, “but here you are.” He walked over to the door and flipped the sign to closed. “Let’s get some coffee and snacks,” he suggested. “We can see if we can figure out Alpine’s newest stray.”

“Not a stray.”

Shrugging off the protest, Bucky followed Clint towards the café side of the store. “You need something,” he replied over his shoulder. “Or you wouldn’t be here.”

Darcy gave him an encouraging smile. “Coffee?”

He opened his mouth, uncertain of what he might say, but then closed it and sighed as the cat stared at him. “Sure, why not?”

They drank coffee and the conversation swirled around them as the Triad tried to figure out why Alpine had brought Sam into their shop. When that proved unfruitful, the men segued into discussing tattoos in general – and they managed to get into their various forms of service. Army and intelligence – they’d all seen the darker side of humanity. Even Darcy – who Sam had pegged as complete civilian – had done some work in analysis. He did a little counseling, but whenever they seemed to get antsy, he backed down and stuck with listening. They weren’t patients and he didn’t want to pry.

“Don’t you need to open back up?” he finally asked after a glance at his watch showed him that two hours had passed.

“We’ve got a tendency to close down when someone needs our help,” Darcy explained. She cocked her head and examined him. “It usually doesn’t take this long for us to get a hint of what the problem might be.” A mix of emotions chased each other across her expressive face – interest, compassion, and a hint of frustration. “I think it’s your counseling background.” He blinked at her and she grinned. “We all got stuck with counselors at one point or another. Too bad you weren’t around then.”

“True,” Clint agreed, slouching back and rolling his eyes. “The ones we had didn’t seem to know when to push and when to back the hell off.”

Bucky made a scoffing sound but didn’t speak. Agreement glimmered in his cool gaze.

“I have an idea.”

With that, Darcy jumped up and hurried into a back room. Her two partners exchanged a quick look and a shrug when Sam turned a questioning gaze on them. “Darcy sometimes sees things the rest of us don’t,” Clint explained.

Well, seemed to explain . . . nothing? Anything? Sam didn’t have a clue.

She reappeared a few minutes later with a deck of cards in her hands. “We’ll see what this will tell us,” she announced.

“Poker?” Sam joked.

“Sorry, sugar, no dice,” she teased. “You’re cute and all, but our poker games tend to be private.”

Wicked grins slashed across Clint and Bucky’s faces and Sam sat back. “I don’t want to know.”

“You really don’t.” She held out the deck of cards. “Shuffle these for a few minutes.”

He accepted the deck and began shuffling it, splitting his attention between her and the cards. “If we’re not playing a card game, what are we doing?”

“Figuring out Alpine’s motive.”

“With cards?”

Her eyebrows rose and a bit of flame seemed to flicker in her pupils. “Going to question magic now?”

“Nope.”

“Smart man.” Darcy gave him a wicked grin. “Now, cut the deck and put nine cards in front of you, face down. Three rows of three.”

Sam cut the deck as he glanced over at the other men. “Is this normal?”

“Yes.”

He had to chuckle at the simultaneous answer from both men and the unrepentant shrug from the woman. “Okay, then,” he shrugged. Quick flicks of his fingers set out a nine-card spread as ordered. “What next?”

“Flip over the top three cards,” Darcy ordered. “Left to right.”

Reaching out, he did as he was told, revealing the jack of hearts, four of clubs, and the seven of spades. When Darcy drew in a sharp breath, he glanced up to find sympathy swirling into the steel blue. “What?”

“It’s your past,” she explained as she touched his forearm. “The loss of a good friend, someone you trusted and depended on.”

An old pain shot through him and his eyes dropped to his hands. “Riley.”

When a strong hand landed on his other shoulder, he looked up to find that marble gaze on him, no longer cold. Still a little remote maybe, but Bucky’s expression held understanding. “Shield brother?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a tough loss.”

“It is.” Clearing his throat, Sam lifted a hand to the second row of cards without prompting. Left to right, they revealed the ace of spades, nine of diamonds, and the two of hearts. He frowned. “I don’t have a hint of magic, but even I know that ace isn’t a good one.”

“Death doesn’t just mean someone’s dying,” Darcy sighed. “And don’t get me started on your supposed lack of magic.” He started to protest, but she steamrolled over anything he might say. “Given the other two cards, I’d say you’ve either got some conflict going on over choices or you’re about to have some opportunities come your way.”

“Mrowr.”

Alpine let up on the table and tapped the cards. Bucky gave a soft huff of amusement. “Opportunities,” he decided. 

“Mrowr.”

“Let’s not argue with the cat,” Clint suggested. “Turn the last three and let’s see what we’ve got to work with.”

Flipping over the last three cards, Sam had to laugh as his gaze went straight to the center card. “Okay, so queen of clubs and king of hearts, can’t wait to hear what those mean, but do I want to know why I ended up with the joker?”

“Well . . . huh.”

Sam’s brow furrowed when he looked up and caught Darcy blinking down at the cards, surprise written all over her expression. His eyes flickered over to the two men, finding them watching her with open curiosity. 

“Doll?” Bucky prompted. “You’re looking a little dumbfounded there.”

She gave herself a little shake. “Good description for it,” she admitted. Folding her hands on the table, she refocused on Sam. “So, tell me, what are your feelings about being a sidekick and kicking ass?” Her head tilted just a bit to one side. “Oh, and taking orders from a scarily competent woman?”

Clint started laughing, full-out belly laughs that left him unable to talk. Bucky, on the other hand, rubbed his right hand over his face. “Are you telling us, Alpine brought in a new stray for **Steve**?”

“He and Peggy have been looking for another partner,” Darcy shrugged. “And, well, Alpine . . .” Her voice trailed off as she waved a hand towards Sam.

“Great.” Bucky gave Clint a small shove. “Shut up.”

“No . . . way . . . in . . . hell!” 

How the man managed to draw in enough breath to squeeze out those words, Sam couldn’t imagine, but he let that slide. “Who is Steve?” he asked. “And Peggy?”

“A pain in the ass and the woman who hold his reins.”

That caused an increase in Clint’s chortling, but now it came accompanied by Darcy’s giggles. Sam just raised his eyebrows at Bucky.

He rolled his eyes. “Steve’s an old friend of mine,” he admitted. “The punk never met a fight he didn’t like. Ended up saving his ass more than once.” He shifted back in his seat. “Peggy’s got that job now, but she’s better at keeping him out of the fight.”

“What kind of fight?” 

Even Sam could hear the hesitancy in his voice. He remained proud of his service, but he didn’t know if he wanted to jump feet first into a new battle. 

“The good kind,” Darcy promised. “Steve and Peggy . . . well, I guess the official title would be private security? But they really kind of work as law enforcement for our neighborhood.” When his eyebrows rose, she spread her hands. “Not for the average junk – that what the police are for. They handle the weird, odd, unusual.”

“And you think that’s what I need?”

She glanced down at the cards and then back up. “I think you need a cause, something to fight for.”

“Hell, if you can keep Steve from getting himself killed, I’ll take it as a personal favor,” Bucky added.

“Take it,” Clint advised. “If only for the favor. There are people in this neighborhood that would give half their fortune and the promise of their first born for Bucky to owe them a favor.”

Sam blinked at him. “Because that is not at all disturbing.”


	2. Moodboard - The Spellbound Triad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The promised mood boards...

[ ](https://imgur.com/gL5ph6T)

[ ](https://imgur.com/UYtjiOi)

_“An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered;_  
_an adventure is an inconvenience rightly considered.”_  
~ G.K. Chesterton


End file.
